Jon Mark Beilue: Give the best, eat the rest

Posted: Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Hey, kids, head over to Steven Jones' house tonight. The Amarillo College president may not have any more pamphlets on the $68 million AC bond issue left to put in your Halloween sack, but something a little more enjoyable.

"Gosh, I kind of hate to say, because they'll be busing them in from Dalhart now," Jones said.

Rumor has it the little ghouls and goblins will receive a coupon for a free Frosty from Wendy's. Now that's different. It seems the Joneses bought coupon books to prepare for tonight's doorbell onslaught.

"We enjoy having the kids, particularly the little ones," he said. "One thing we've noticed that's different here: Most of the kids have parents within eyesight. Where we've lived before they literally hauled them in from different parts of the country."

Step up to the door of Amarillo mayor Debra McCartt and either she or husband Joe Bob will give the little ones a jumpstart on a full-blown case of acne. They'll be handing out Hershey's chocolate bars. Not the bite-sized version, but the regular-sized ones.

"I've been doing that for years," McCartt said. "I love them so much. I eat what's left over. I'm a chocolaholic."

That's essentially No. 2 on the stone tablet of the Halloween Candy Commandments.

No. 1, at least for me, is never give candy to a "kid" who can look you square in the eye. Son, if you're 16 and still trick-or-treating, instead of some Sweet Tarts, let me give you the number of a good therapist.

But No. 2 is select the kind of candy you'd enjoy munching at 10 p.m. when the action has finally died down. Works for Dale McKee, owner of the local Pak-A-Sak stores. His stores are loaded with candy, so he has a good idea of what sells and what doesn't. He's bought six or seven bags of Snickers, Milky Ways and Butterfingers. And he's hoping there'll be a bag or two left on Nov. 1.

"We learned a long time ago, don't buy any treat you won't eat yourself," she said. "There's always some left over. We like the good stuff just as much as anyone else. And that means chocolate."

Which leads to Commandment No. 3: Don't run out of the good candy. That's not as easy as it seems. Depending on the weather and the night on which Halloween falls, it can be anywhere from two doorbell rings to an unending stream of screams.

I've never wanted to be known as the house that only had the awful candy corn or bite-sized Bits O' Honey.

Call it Halloween pride, but it's always been important to be seen as the Willy Wonka of Fleetwood and hand out Milk Duds, Sugar Babies, Three Musketeers and the closest things to candy bar heaven, Snickers and Nestle Crunch.

"Thaaaank youuuuu!" Yes, yes, run along, kids, run along.

It's a terrible feeling to see the bottom of the candy dish while a herd of hyperactive Power Rangers are traipsing through the yard, and mothers escorting princesses are clogging the sidewalks.

Halloween desperation is frantically searching through kitchen cabinets for a forgotten sack of Brach's hard cinnamon candies or the worst candy known to man, hard butterscotch candy.

It's truly a humbling experience to give a 6-year-old Puff the Magic Dragon a few pathetic pieces of butterscotch and see those sad eyes staring back at me, knowing she'd dearly love to kick me in the shins. Might as well have plopped a can of beets into the sack.

And, get this, the leftover popcorn balls and caramel apples, she's taking them home tonight to hand out. Before society's kooks and nutjobs started putting screws and poison in homemade items, popcorn balls and caramel apples were nirvana.

Once upon a time in the 1960s and 1970s, popcorn balls were the buried treasure hidden somewhere in the neighborhood. And now? Kids make do with coupons for free Frosties - and be darn glad to get them.

Jon Mark Beilue's column appears Sunday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at jon.beilue@amarillo.com or (806) 345-3318.